Harry Potter and the Horror of Horrors
by dobbythehorseelf
Summary: Anticipating his first date with the delectable Ginny Weasley, Harry finds himself taking a detour up the great spiral staircase to see the Headmaster. What follows is now legend...horrible, gruesome legend! HPGW, ADMM, STFF. Funny twoshot! R
1. Chapter 1

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**Be warned - what follows might blur your visions of the purity and innocence of the wizarding world, or at least the running of this most magical of schools - please don't berate me for it, it was a moment of madness. However, feel free to review and if you feel it necessary to tell me off for my corruption of Hogwarts, I won't hold it against you too much...ENJOY!!! I certainly did..._

_Disclaimer: In case any of you thought I was His Majesty, King of Bloomsbury or the eminent lady Rowling herself, be warned (again) as it turns out I am not, and therefore do not own, or reserve rights over anything to do with HP. Promise. _

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Harry shut the door behind him, breathed, gagged and closed his eyes, hoping desperately that such an action might blot out the mental image now stained, or more accurately, burned into his consciousness. It didn't seem fair, he thought as he stumbled down the moving spiral staircase, especially today, before he was due to take Ginny out for the first time, that the universe had ordained for him to walk in on _that_. 

'Teachers are meant to be ASEXUAL!' he screamed down the supposedly empty corridor.

'Don't remind me,' said a strange, gloomy voice from behind him, causing Harry to jump round in surprise. He looked into the despondent eyes of the ugly gargoyle that stood outside Dumbledore's office. 'They didn't change the password to 'liquorice wand' for no reason.'

'Thanks,' said Harry as a new wave of bile surged up his throat. 'That's just about the worst thing I've ever heard.' But not seen, he thought to himself. For Harry Potter had just left the Headmaster's office, previously a room of dignity and scholarship, having seen something no sixteen-year-old should have had to suffer in front of. His hero, the great Professor Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, had been taking the, until now, thoroughly sexless Professor McGonagall over his desk, while the newly-incarnated Fawkes watched on with silent curiosity.

'Ugh!' he shuddered once more.

'What's up, Potter, you great fag?' came the dulcet drawl of Malfoy. Great, thought Harry, just what I need. 'Dumbledore dumped his favourite little toy-boy?'

'Nope,' answered Harry, as an idea sprung to mind. 'But I think he wants to see you. Go up now, don't bother to knock, he's waiting for you.'

'Well then…fuck you!' said Malfoy with style, and he traipsed off up the staircase which had not yet closed.

'You know, _you_ don't have to sit here and listen to the repercussions of that,' sighed the ever-sombre gargoyle. 'Now I have to sit through another boy's rant about professorial chastity.'

'ARHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'

'Malfoy, what the devil do you think you're doing, coming in here without knocking?' Apparently Harry's plan had unfurled, and Professor McGonagall was not happy. By the sounds of it, neither was Malfoy.

'UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'

Even paler than usual, he came crashing down the stairs, and, without a backward glance at Harry, he hurtled down the corridor to take refuge in whatever could possibly obliterate the memory of what he had just witnessed.

'Now I feel better,' sniggered Harry, in spite of himself.

'And now they're going to have to change the bloody password again, and no one ever asks my opinion,' the gargoyle went on. 'Do you know how degrading it is when people yell fucking 'Sherbet lemon' at you every five minutes? DO YOU?'

'Er – no, sorry,' said Harry, when the sound of the door upstairs opening reached him and he made to retreat as quickly as possible.

'Malfoy!' came the voice of Professor McGonagall.

'Don't worry,' said the gargoyle. 'I'll buy you some time.' And with that, he made the walls spring back together in time for the poor professor behind it to crunch painfully into it.

'Oh shit!' came her Scottish bark, apparently slightly muffled by the cascade of blood streaming from her nose.

'Eloquent as always, my dear Minerva,' they heard Professor Dumbledore chuckle from behind the stone barrier.

'The thing closed up on me, Albus – it's time that bloody gargoyle was put down!'

'I can hear you, you insensitive hag!' the victim of this slight bellowed through the wall. 'Just because I'm made of stone doesn't mean I don't have feelings, you great Scottish tart!'

'Er – I'll be going now,' said Harry, inching away, and then turning on his heel, he ran, but not before the privilege of hearing his Head of House say:

'I am sorry, gargoyle – oh Albus, what are you doing with your wand?'

And Harry retched as the sound of flirtatious giggles echoed back to him from a part of the castle that had forever lost its austerity. The innuendo had not been lost on him.

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'Liposuction!' cried Harry. 

'Maybe one day, young Potter!' sang the ever-widening Fat Lady, who soon would become too large for her frame. She winked.

'Yeah, good luck with that,' said Harry as she swung forward to admit him, and he clambered into the common room awkwardly, only to be kissed passionately by an erotically-charged Ginny. Was it wrong, her questioned himself, that while caught in this deep embrace with his new girlfriend, the only thing he could think of was which teacher was responsible for thinking up the Gryffindors' passwords. Suddenly, the face of their Head of House swum before his eyes, lying in ecstasy over the Headmaster's desk, and Harry practically threw Ginny out of his arms, slightly emasculated for the moment.

'What's wrong with you?' asked an affronted Ginny, refastening the clasp on her bra.

'Could you just not touch me for a moment?' pleaded Harry, hardly bearing to look at her – it seemed any form of sexuality had lost what magic it had ever had.

'Alright,' she replied with a grin. 'Need a moment to…deflate?' She raised a suggestive eyebrow.

'Oh God! No!'

'Oh!' she said, looking decidedly hurt once more. 'Well if that's the way you feel about me…'

'Um…I mean no…yes…sure, why not?'

'That's better,' she said. 'Now just think of McGonagall and Dumbledore doing it to calm you down, and let's go to Madam Puddifoot's. I'm really thirsty…for you.'

Another suggestive glance, and a shell-shocked Harry forced an appreciative smile back at her, as she swept her mane of red hair out of her eyes, took him by the hand, and led him out of the common room.

'Don't do anything I wouldn't do!' the Fat Lady called after them as they made their way down the corridor, stuffing an enormous cream doughnut down her throat.

'Where'd you get them?' said Ginny.

'Wrestled them off the painting of Odela the Obese down by the kitchens – thought she could do with losing a few pounds!' And with that, she buried her face in creamy goodness, and was lost to the world.

The world seemed a much brighter place with Ginny at his side, and all memory of the incident earlier on had been pushed out of Harry's mind. They talked about Quidditch and whether Lavender Brown was prettier than Ginny, and finally about what it would be like if Filch and Mrs Norris had a baby. Life was funny, carefree and exciting, and suddenly Harry had a great urge to have Miss Weasley to himself.

'Let's go in here,' he whispered to her, causing her to giggle, not unlike...no, stop it, he thought, and to make sure he was in the right frame of mind, he stuffed his tongue down Ginny's throat to which she responded with an appreciative little shudder.

'There's my boy,' she grinned.

She placed her hand on the knob, turned it and strode in, all the while, kissing him and laughing. Momentarily, Harry opened his eyes, and, in the grip of horror, accidentally bit Ginny's tongue.

'OW!' she shrieked, pushing him away. 'What the hell…?' But upon seeing the look of incredulous despair on her boyfriend's face, she spun round to look. There before them, completely oblivious to their presence, Professor Trelawney was bent over backwards, abusing yet another innocent school desk, locked in the embrace of…

'Professor Trelawney, is that a child?'

There was a scream of surprise, and an equally loud squeak erupted from the tiny person who a moment before had been glued to the Divination teacher's lips. Professor Trelawney sprung up into a sitting position sending her partner flying off the desk onto the floor, and to Harry's reiterated horror, it was none other than tiny little Professor Flitwick who looked up at them, an embarrassed smile etched across his little face.

'Mr Potter! Miss Weasley!'

Harry didn't say a word, and was deeply annoyed to find Ginny fighting back explosions of giggles, as Professor Trelawney covered herself up with the masses of shawls scattered across the ground.

'Didn't you see us coming, Professor?' she managed to say in between snorts.

'Well, I don't know, Miss Weasley…I…the inner eye was otherwise occupied…um…'

Harry grabbed Ginny's shaking person by the waist and heaved her out of the room as she let out a giant guffaw. He slammed the door behind him, and together they ran.

Today, apparently, was not going to be his day.


	2. Chapter 2

"How can you laugh at that?" demanded Harry of Ginny. "It's basically kiddie-porn!"

Ginny snorted attractively. "What, Harry – dare you deny the lesser-endowed person his fun?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Harry without thinking. Ginny put on an expression of mock horror, which pushed Harry to regroup. "Well, at least keep it in the same height group! I can't even begin to imagine the physics of Flitwick and Trelawney if...you know...UHH!" The shuddering returned.

"Fascist!" chuckled Ginny. She looked straight ahead, only to point quizzically at a foetal figure at the end of the corridor. "What is...is that Malfoy?"

Sure enough, as they drew nearer, Malfoy's silver-blond hair came into focus. He was sat, shivering heavily against the wall, his head buried in his lap, his hands gripping his knees so hard that his knuckles gleamed white. He did not seem to realise they were there.

"What's up, Twat-foy?" inquired Ginny, feigning sympathy, sympathy cleverly disguised by a sharp kick in his knees.

"Clever," Harry declared of her sterling choice of nickname.

"Why, thank you, my love; I certainly thought so," grinned Ginny. Meanwhile, the newly dubbed "Twat-foy" had not shown any acknowledgement that a thousand years of his pure-blood heritage had just been reduced to twattery by this turn of phrase, nor even that he had just been assaulted by a feisty ginger blood traitor. "What's up with him? Confunded or just generally retarded?"

Harry sniggered, especially proud of the effect his trick seemed to have had on his nemesis. "A bit of both – I made him walk in on Dumbledore and McGonagall...you know..."

At this point, as if jerked into reliving it, Malfoy let out a squeal not so unlike Dobby's suspicious little cries of pleasure every time he saw Harry.

"You're joking!" gaped Ginny. "What the hell's got into them all today? Fumbledore and McGonna-cum, imagine!" She trailed off dreamily, much to Harry's disturbance. "God, I'm good with names!" she added as an absent-minded afterthought. She turned to Harry: "Well, you've seen Dumbledore naked – what's left to do with your life?"

"I dunno," thought Harry. "Getting rid of Voldemort all seems so trivial now in comparison. Now I know there are far greater evils in the world!"

All of a sudden, his scar erupted with pain, a pain that came not from Lord Voldemort's extreme and hormonal mood swings, as Dumbledore had originally suspected, but rather from moments of acute physical pleasure. The connection forged, Harry plunged into the innermost depths of the Dark Lord's mind and was confronted with a scene that disturbed him more than anything he had seen in his life, more than anything he had witnessed today. Lucius Malfoy was strapped into a tight-fitting leather corset, dancing erotically, apparently for an onlooker's pleasure, while Nagini glided suggestively across his body.

Danger was coming, and so it seemed, thanks to such an extravagant imagination, was Voldemort.


End file.
